


Everybody loves me

by ElevenGaleStorms



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-11-30 15:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11466669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElevenGaleStorms/pseuds/ElevenGaleStorms
Summary: #1: Lone Digger, "Arno always knew that her distant biological father was a bit... odd, but finding out that he left her a fanatically loyal warrior order was too much. As it turns out, she has to lead the said order until further notice. And don't even get her started on the paperwork and her now distant sister in all but blood, Elise.", Multi x Fem!Arno#2: A Ghostly Stalker, "Arno really shouldn't have gone through the trouble of acquiring that alluring armor in the cage. After all, it led to her having a legendary Assassin stalking her as a ghost as well as the said ghost trying to mentor her. On top of that, Greencoat can't stop teasing her with his rude and snide remarks.", Thomas de Carneillon x (&) Fem!Arno along with hints of other pairings





	1. Lone Digger I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arno meets the Baguette Boyband in the Bastille and finds out an inheritance her father left her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned that there may be quite a few grammar mistakes in here because it is very hard to edit as well as write on my tablet.

"Wakey! Wakey! You've got company, little frog." shouted a guard. Arno's body stiffened in her cot. In the Bastille, the word 'company' never meant anything good. She slid a hand under her cot and tightly held a shard of glass behind her back. Better safe than sorry as some would say.

"Yes, yes. I'm getting up." The female faked a drowsy voice and pretended to stumble out of her cot and towards the entrance of the cell.

Arno was greeted by the sight of three human beings in her cell. Seems like I literally have company, thought Arno.

"May I know your names, gentlemen?" she inquired.

"You may call me Axeman, Arno." The tallest one said.

"How do you-"

"Mine is Greencoat, Dorian." Arno didn't know why even had that name when he wasn't wearing oh-she-didn't know- a green coat.

"Again-" Arno felt slightly peeved that they kept on cutting her off. And how the hell did they even know her name?

"My name is Icecream." That is the oddest codename I've ever heard of, thought Arno.

She took a breath before once again asking how they knew her name. This time they exchanged a meaningful look with one another before staring at her.

"We are here for you." The female was beginning to get a little… creeped out. That statement sounded all too ominous for her.

"You are the sole living relative of the deceased Mentor, Mirabeau and thus you've inherited his position."

"What the-"

"Swearing is not befitting for a Mentor." admonished Greencoat. Arno stared at the man in disbelief. Was this really happening?

And to think that she could have a normal life once she got out of the Bastille.

* * *

 

"What would you do if you are going after a high-speed target running through the streets?"

"I would pursue-"

"Wrong." Arno twitched in annoyance. What was with these people on interrupting her?

She sighed. There were only a handful of potential answers and she just had to narrow it down to one. Strategizing was a pain, in her opinion. The female wouldn't have time to plan out her every move during a mission.

To cover more distance and cut through streets, the best way to do that would be… to pursue along the rooftops.

"I would go up onto the rooftops and pursue from there," Icecream nodded in approval.

"Maybe, Greencoat was wrong about you.." The temptation to create a witty remark was almost too great to resist for her. The stoic and almost robotic Greencoat never gave out compliments to her. She almost laughed because it was a known fact among her cell and possibly the entire block that her mentor didn't like her.

Like, at all.

The last time she made a witty remark around her new teacher had gotten Arno more training hours than was humanly possible.

"Get up, Dorian." Arno didn't even attempt to get off the floor. Blurred vision and protesting muscles made her lose her will to keep going on.

"Don't mind me, wise man. I'm simply going to take a short little nap." A boot slammed down next to her head. Her eyes snapped open in surprise and made contact with Greencoat's.

"You are such a-"

"I could say the same thing for you, Dorian. Do you think we are here willingly?" At this point, that was more of a statement than a question.

"Hate to say this to you. But who willingly goes to prison?" Mild irritation could be seen in his eyes. Ah, she always had that effect on people.

"…" Another boot found its place next to her hand. She tensed in caution,

Wait, was he planning on breaking her fingers.

"Got it. I am getting up, mentor." A sigh escaped Greencoat.

"You are so difficult."

"And you love it." she cheekily said.

* * *

 

Out of all her teachers, Axeman was her favorite. It was hard to explain on why. But he treated with a surprising yet welcome amount of familiarity and respect unlike the people around her. The last person that treated her like that was Elise, who she hadn't seen for quite a while.

But still training with him in melee combat was pure misery… even compared to Greencoat's training.

"You okay, Arno?" He calmly asked.

"Yeah, 'doing fine. " She gasped for air in exhaustion, "Although, I might need a little break."

"Nonsense. You can continue on" Well, the man had his moments. This was not of them.

As Arno once again got up, she told herself that someday…. someday she would get her revenge on all of them.

Someday.

* * *

 

"It's time," Greencoat said.

"Who's going to wake her up?" she sleepily heard.

"I'll do it." Icecream stated. They both wished him 'good luck'.

He shook Arno's body only to be greeted with a fist to the face. The female blearily opened her

"I am up." she groaned out. And to think Arno was having such a good dream about wine and Elise. Oh, and punching her father for having her deal with this.

Cannon fire could be heard from outside. Drowsiness that came with sleep melted away quickly.

She smiled in anticipation. As some would say, the sound of cannon fire was the sound of opportunity.

Arno looked expectantly towards her mentors. They nodded in affirmation. It was time to go.

They motioned for her to stand in the center of the cell as they hid behind a wall. She whistled idly. That seemed to attract the guard's attention and shout at her on where were her fellow prisoners.

Arno merely continued to whistle. Eventually, the man got frustrated enough to open the cell door-and Axeman struck.

"About time."

"I'd like to see you do this." Icecream said.

"Oh, you wouldn't want me to do that." Arno had a long way to go when it came to hand-to-hand combat. Greencoat could confidently affirm that.

The trio of Assassins and their student eliminated the guards they came across of until they reached the roof.

"Best of luck to you all." she nodded quickly at them and went-

A hand reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt.

"I don't think so. You are coming with us, Dorian."

It looked like she wasn't having wine today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone think this is horrible? If anyone is somehow interested in this, is there anything you want in here? Thanks for reading!


	2. Lone Digger II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arno is oblivious, Elise is exasperated, and Shay is...well Shay.

“...And that’s how I got into this mess.” Arno finished. Elise looked at her with an inscrutable look. The porcelain tea cup she was holding in her hand was gently set down.

“You really are an idiot,” her friend sighed out. Arno let out a weak protest at the rather insulting name, “-for not even realizing the truth.”

“Which is?”

“They-you know what, nevermind. You are just too oblivious sometimes I swear...”

“Elise.” she persisted.

Her friend groaned in exasperation, “Ever wonder why those snotty children of nobles who used to bully you as a child?”

“They hated me.” Arno plainly said. It wasn’t anything she really gave all that much thought to. Noble children often picked on orphans.

“They liked you and it sounds like those mentors of yours like you too.” Elise corrected. Arno gave a disbelieving look to her friend. If that was a display of liking someone, then this world was a lot more twisted than she originally thought.

“You, my friend, are not making sense.” she chuckled and put a handful of coins on the table. As she walked out of the cafe, Elise’s words came to mind.

“-Those mentors of yours like you too.”

Arno scoffed, “And French pigs will fly to Britain.” she muttered.

“That would be quite the sight, lass.” Arno looked at the unexpected responder to her question. A grin spread across her lips when she realized who it was.

The familiar black and crimson robes along with the rather shady hood… it could only be-

“Shay!"

“It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you. Is it just me or have you grown?”

“I stopped growing a long time ago, sea dog.” The playful nickname came out of her lips almost instantly.

Arno had met her old friend in a tavern while she was roaming around France’s villages. One thing led to another and Arno had hitched a ride to America on the Morrigan, Shay’s ship. He even helped Arno, with her limited English, find accommodations at the Finnigan’s house in New York.

“Then you must have gotten shorter.” A hand lightly pressed on her head as if measuring her height. She lightly swatted the hand away with an amused expression on her face.

“Enough teasing already.” she groaned, “How was your trip? I remember sending you a brief letter wishing you good luck.”

A dark expression fleeted across his features briefly before resolving on indifferent, “You know that I make my own luck, lass. We ran into a storm for a few days time.”

Noticing her friend’s discomfort at talking about the subject at hand, Arno remarked, “I swear you use that catch phrase of yours a million times already.”

“It’s true. I make my own luck,” he said proudly. The noticeable puffing of his chest that must be pride swelling up made Arno chuckle.  
“Whatever you say, my friend. Whatever you say,” she said while she shook her head in mock exasperation.

“Want to get a pint at the tavern?” Shay suddenly asked.

“Sure.” she shrugged off the suddenness of the request. Arno always welcomed the feeling that consuming alcohol preferably wine brought her.

In hindsight, Arno probably should have noticed the red cross on the buckle of the belts going across Shay’s chest. Elise would be proven right about her friend’s obliviousness.

* * *

“Where’s the brat?” questioned Phillip. The almost ever present scowl on his face softened to a frown.

“W-why do you ask, Master Greencoat?” One particularly brave Apprentice spoke out.

“Mission.” he simply said.

“The girl said she had some business to take care o-” he was cut off by the glare directed at him. The master Assassin was still reloading his guns and the very sound of it made the Apprentice flinch.

“You let her leave.” the threatening undertone of the statement made even the spectators freeze. The Master Assassin’s skills with his guns were something to be feared.

Phillip was tempted to pinch his nose from a migraine the situation brought him. Did this really have to happen right after he got back from a mission, “You just let our Mentor walk unprotected into a city that now holds an Assassin Hunter.” Every word was pronounced slowly as if taking to a crowd of dim-witted people. Then again, he actually was talking to a bunch of idiots.

No one dared respond to his statement. Greencoat gave one last glower at the dim-wits before stalking out of Headquarters.

He had a student to find.

* * *

“So what have you been up to recently? Meet anyone special?” the teasing tone was back. Arno rolled her eyes at his not so subtle questioning of her non-existent love life.

“Other than going to prison, nothing has happened. You?” Except for getting forcefully recruited into a homicidal cult, she added silently.

“Being on the Morrigan, women. You know the usual. ”

“Ladies-man.” Arno casually remarked as she sipped her wine.

“Not enough to get you though.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you were interested.” The banter between herself and Shay was calming in its own way. It was familiar and stayed the same unlike everything else in her life.

The Irishman would tease her and she would tease him. The cycle made her tune things out the things that truly troubled her. Perhaps, that was how she became friends with him in the first place.

“I-”, Whatever Shay was going to was drowned out by the utter dread brought by the sight of a familiar green coat.

Greencoat.

The man began to approach them and Arno knew she had to do something. She had just escaped from that cult and she had no intention of returning to the sight of the frowning faces of the Council.

“Don’t take this personally.” she quickly muttered to her companion. The desperate female wrapped a hand around the back of his head and brought him forward.

The choice between embarrassment or imprisonment remained in her mind. Looking into the dark eyes of Shay, Arno made her decision with determined eyes.

Their lips connected.

 


	3. A Ghostly Stalker I

“Leave me alone, will you?” she glared at her stalker.

“You shouldn’t have taken my armor then.” The slight smirk on Thomas de Carneillon’s face betrayed his stoicness. Arno huffed in irritation. How was she supposed to drink and gamble if someone was following her all the time?

“Just go do… whatever ghosts do.” she lamely said, almost wincing at her statement. Couldn’t come up with something better, could she?

“Afraid not, mademoiselle,” Blue eyes looked on amusedly at her, “I believe this venture will be most entertaining.”

Arno sighed.

I guess I’m stuck with you then, she thought.

And indeed she was.

For the rest of her life.

* * *

“Great destiny my-” A cough interrupted her rant. Arno glowered at her sudden and very unwelcome visitor.

Greencoat.

“You...” she started.

“Me,” Greencoat had that haughty smirk on his aristocratic face that made her want to smack it off-

“Attacking a fellow brother would be unwise,” Thomas commented. He gave an assessing eye at the man who irritated his charge so much. The man wasn’t a complete failure as an Assassin in his skill set nor in the looks department either. But he certainly failed in regards to his personality, at least towards Arno.

The banker nearly sighed in relief. It looked like he wouldn’t need to be keeping men away from her. Only Heaven knows how many times he would see his subordinates become overprotective fathers who threaten any male that comes within range of their daughter to be… injured with their hidden blade.

“Still have a thing for Templars, little girl?” Greencoat sneered.

Thomas would have laughed if it wasn’t for the fact that such a disrespectful statement was directed at Arno. Oh, how foolishly amusing this man was.

“What did you just say?” Greencoat sobered at the look on Arno’s face. It wasn’t that of hurt.

No, it was anger.

Pure rage.

“You fis a putain!" she swore at the Assassin, not sparing a glance to her everpresent spectator.

Greencoat moved to fire a warning shot only to realize that he was out of ammunition. That was the entire point of coming into Headquarters… at least until he saw Arno ranting to herself.

The man sighed. He never could resist the temptation of teasing her.

Greencoat barely managed to dodge her rapier. Oddly enough, it felt like he was dodging two weapons at once…

He soon banished the thought as he focused on simply surviving.

* * *

 “-We will never launch such a bold strike in broad daylight at-” The Mentor drowned out the rest, unable to bear hearing such bickering amongst brothers.

Thomas truly didn’t know that the Brotherhood he had put his life’s work into had turned into this. A bunch of old and bickering croons who managed to accomplish nothing.

Perhaps, they were right in the fact that Arno was not quite loyal.

But she had what it took to be an exceptional Assassin, and all she needed was the right guidance and teaching.

While he was trying to do just that, the Council just seemed to love demolishing his work.

Rarely if ever did such irritation and rage fill his being. Before he knew what he was doing, Thomas found himself shouting at the Council.

“Enough, you bickering fools! I spent my life’s work for the Brotherhood only for it turn into this,” he gestured at the Council members, “If you would just stop bickering as if you’re the village idiots, then maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation!” Thomas took a deep breath as his throat became hoarse from yelling…

In the blink of an eye, Thomas once again found himself facing the Council in his ghostly form with wisps of smoke trailing behind him.

“What the devil did you just do?” Arno hissed at him or rather to herself. As much as she would have loved doing what he just did herself, she already was in deep water with them.

They might kill her this time or worse. Like having to help Marquis de Sade write his novel as a favor.

Just the thought of doing such a “favor” made her shudder uncontrollably.

Best not to think such dreadful things, she told herself.

“Arno Dorian, as punishment for your undeniable disrespect and actions you are assigned to-” Please not be Marquis de Sade, she mentally begged while cursing at Thomas, “-Gabriel Bardou, Adrien Dole, and Phillip Chevalier.”

Arno relaxed minutely before realizing who the last name they mentioned belonged to.

Greencoat.

Arno vehemently swore at Thomas de Carneillon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite sure why I wrote this chapter. I guess I wanted to try out writing a new character, Thomas de Carneillon. Thanks for reading!


End file.
